God of the Wars
by curecure
Summary: [AU] In a world without alchemy, Amestris is in a state of unease. A full fledged war is soon to break out between Amestris and Creata. The Führer is the only who can fix it. Meanwhile, a talented general by the name of Hughes has caught his eye.


**Disclaimer:** Fullmetal Alchemist, Hagane no Renkinjutsu-shi, and all related entities belong to Hiromu Arakawa-san.

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**GOD OF THE WARS**

- -- - -- -

**BEGINNINGS**

- -- - -- -

_kasei to iu na no hoshi_

_sou janai to itteru_

_GOD OF THE WARS_

_heiwa o inoru aimu, MARS_

_keredo kyou mo sekai wa_

_mawaru mawari tsuzukerua_

_arasou no o, ima demo yamerarezu ni_

- -- - -- -

The world was full of mistakes. And those mistakes should be corrected. That is what he had thought when he was younger. In time, he had come to learn that the world which he had loathed was not as simple to fix as he had first thought. But that had only made him even more determined.

This world... This country... He would fix it.

Only the best was necessary for his country...the people he loved. And he intended to make it so.

The country was no longer as safe as it had been when he was a child. In fact, it had worsened. Relationally, Amestris had an alliance with the country of Xing, across the Great Desert, but that was of no help being that Amestris itself was surrounded by other countries that fought for control of their land. Xing was too far away to be of much active assistance.

However, Xing had aided Amestris in the development of alchemy, which had recently been deemed an important study for many countries because of the properties that could be gained from it.

Gunpowder.

A matter created by the chemists of Xing. While searching for a substance that would promote immortality, they had managed to discover that this specifically mixed powder had ignition properties. It was a dangerous material. When lit with a spark of heat, it would become a dangerous propellant. It burned quickly and the chemical reaction that resulted could create explosions.

Because of their alliance with Xing, Amestris was the first that recieved any word concerning firearms. The technological advancement came in handy when fighting against Drachma and Creata, since the two countries continued to fight with sword, though the occasional use of cannons was also utilized. Areugo, on the other hand, was able to attain these technologies almost as quickly as Amestris, because of the large trading route that ran through Xing, the Great Desert, a part of Ishval, and also Areugo itself.

Areugo, however, no longer threatened Amestris. Its current ruler, who had replaced his deceased father around five years before, was intimidated by the prospect of war and pushed to maintain peace with the countries that sat beside it, which included Amestris. However, this did not stop the fighting between Amestris and its other neighbors.

After being defeated at a particular land-based skirmish ten years before, Creata had pledged full fledged war against Amestris. The Führer of Amestris, at the time, had promoted the war, causing many setbacks for the country's original plan for industrial revolution. Many people had been drafted for the war and the battlefront of Amestris was now beginning to waver. During an overconfident battle against Creata, a group of 16 Amestris militarymen self-decidedly infiltrated a small village along the border of Drachma, past the Briggs Mountains, near the Western Range. The act of animosity against the country caused the break of the peace contract that Amestris held with Drachma. As a result, the Drachman Empire began to retaliate. After capturing the 16 Amestrismen, they were publically massacred in the capital city of Drachma as a testament against Amestris. The Führer of Amestris had tried to make amends, which all fell through in the end, and Drachma started drafting for war against Amestris.

It took many years of hard work.

Through much suffering, he had finally made it to where he was now. His desire to create a better world for his country's people first began when he was in his early teens, when the previous Führer had first attacked the Ishvalians for the sole purpose of conquering. He disliked such a methodology. By convincing his parents of his determination to persue his dream, he had managed to get into military school. He worked tediously and diligently made himself recognized by his instructors. This earned him the recommendation that had allowed him to skip a couple ranks upon officially entering the military. After that, all that was left for him was to slowly climb up the ladder of hope, power, and fate.

Through the years, the previous Führer's constant mistakes had mixed in with his bitterness towards the future tasks that must be done to correct Amestris' current losses. Along with the haunting memories of his hard work, only a single memory was left unsorted, ignored, and avoided. The method by which he had conquered the previous Führer. It was something he refused to think about or speak of.

It was...

The previous Führer had...

Staring out of the window in the wall behind his desk, he wondered when his life had become monotonous. He had reached the position that he had wished for. He was the Führer of his beloved country. Surely there should have been some sort of change by now.

But there was not any. Nothing had really changed for the better since he had achieved the rank of Führer. It troubled him endlessly. Why was it that nothing had changed?

A knock came to double doors of his office.

"Meine Führer," a strong, female voice resounded through the thick oak.

Ah, it was Hawkeye. He turned around in his rotating chair, facing the doorway.

"Come in."

The right-sided door opened, just barely enough for Hawkeye to slip in. He smirked. Never a careless motion. That was definitely something he had favoured concerning her, which was what had led him to choose her for the position of his secretary. She closed the door promptly behind her. Saluting, she stepped forward and stated her business.

"Sir, the man you requested to come is here."

General Maes Hughes.

A man who had surpassed his every expectation. Within the span of two years, this man had managed to plow through his ranks with ease. Though he had found no reason not to promote Hughes, it made him question the man's intentions.

His own path up the road of military ranks had taken many years. But this man had risen up within a couple. Aside from that, the officer was not even much older than him. In fact, they were almost the same age, give or take a few months. It aggravated him. It aggravated him greatly. However, depending on Hughes' intentions, he had decided that he would utilize this man in the best way possible. Whatever that would actually result in, though, he did not know. It was all up to Hughes' response at this point.

"At ease."

She dropped the salute and relaxed her shoulders, but only slightly.

"Thank you, Hawkeye. Please show him in."

"Yes, sir," she stated firmly.

Hawkeye bowed briefly, and then she turned to leave the room. A moment after the door closed, it opened again, this time revealing a man. Stepping inside and closing the door behind him, General Hughes stood at attention and saluted.

He watched the general closely. Hughes' face was stern, framed by his military cap and his dark hair, which had been brushed to the side, though a few loose strands had found their way back in front of his eyes. He stared straight into the standing man's golden, yellow eyes. Waiting the see if the lower ranked man would blink, he folded his hands together and interlocked his fingers, leaning forward to rest his arms against the surface of his desk.

He did not.

In fact, Hughes did not even give the slightest hint of any sort of motion, not even for breathing.

"At ease, General."

The general lowered his salute and folded his arms behind his back, crossing them and then standing at ready.

The Führer frowned. He had hoped to find some sort of opening in the man and write it off as a weakness, but this man showed anything but weakness. He had also wanted to grasp a clue as what sort of personality he could possibly have, given the matter that Hughes had indeed managed to make his way this far up very quickly and yet still seemed to be a popular figure amongst the other soldiers, despite his achievements. Most would have been envious and loathed him, but from what he'd heard concerning the general, many people looked up to him instead.

"Tell me," the seated man said. "Tell me what you are thinking about right now."

There was a brief moment of unnerving silence before the general spoke.

"I am wondering, Meine Führer, if I have possibly done something that displeases you." Hughes' rough voice resounded in the moderately sized office room.

"Whatever for?" the other man responded promptly.

There was another pause. Tired of leaning forward in his seat, the leader of the country sat back in his chair, crossing his arms and also his ankles.

"I got the impression that you were bothered by something I'd done."

"When?"

"Well, just a moment before, you frowned, Meine Führer." The words were spoken with respect.

Ah. So this man took particular notice of facial expression and the feelings of others. He thought for a moment.

If this man...this General Hughes...if he could read people's feelings this easily by looking at their expression, than it only made sense for him to be the talk of the troops. The general would have been able to pick up everything that displeased, comforted, and ultimately affected the feelings of whomever he was speaking to.

"I see."

Closing his eyes for a moment, he resumed his interrogation.

"And what do you think that I am thinking about right now?"

Hughes looked at him carefully and hesitated.

Noting the hesitation, the seated man added on, "Say whatever you think it is that I am thinking about. I won't hold it against you."

At that, the general responded.

"I believe, sir, that you are questioning my motives and my ability to judge human emotion."

Ah, very good. General Hughes had been right on the dot.

No.

Wait.

That was not something he should be praising, being as this man had read him so easily. There was an image that the Führer had to uphold and this man could easily see through his every action.

Almost deciding against speaking, the leader of the country looked down at his desk and then interjected again.

"And what about now?"

When no immediate answer came, he looked back up at Hughes, his eyes expecting an answer from the general.

Hughes took a moment to gather his own thoughts before he answered.

"I wouldn't do it."

The seated man raised an eyebrow. He had not expected an answer like that, but even then, he did not quite comprehend what the words meant, either.

"Wouldn't do it? Do what?"

The general's sharp eyes stared firmly at his leader. He spoke, in all seriousness, as if the words were the very philosophy that motivated his every action.

"I wouldn't betray you, Meine Führer. You are important to the success of this land. No, not even that. You are important to the future of this country's people. The land is nothing. The people are what matter. Meine Führer, you are the reason I am standing here today. You are important to **me**, Meine Führer, as your countryman and fellow soldier."

The words that came out of Hughes' mouth stunned him. This person wanted the best for this country. It was the same as what he had wanted. What he **still** wanted. Something about Hughes' words clicked with something in his mind. He did not quite know what, but now he knew that this person could be trusted. He could tell that there was not a single bit of betrayal in his words. If Hughes' motives were the same as his, then...

An idea came to him. It was brilliant, especially if it concerned using Hughes to his fullest. He smiled.

"Alright, then," he said calmly. "Now, concerning official business..."

The general stood straight again, as he had relaxed much tension in his muscles when conveying his loyalty to the country.

"Concerning your position. I am having you removed as a general. You will be replaced by another man who serves under you that has recently caught my attention."

When the other man didn't react, as he had somewhat expected, the young Führer continued.

"Instead, you will serve directly under me, as my personal assistant. Seeing as you have the intentions to give the best for this country, I see no reason for you to go to battle in the off chance that you become fatally wounded and don't survive. If I want the best for this country and you want the best for this country, then there is no better way for us to change this country than to work together. Your strong loyalty to this country interests me, and I personally find myself more at ease around you, now that I have learned what you feel."

Hughes' lips parted a small margin, out of surprise. The general had expected some sort of lecture concerning why he was to be demoted, but...rather than being demoted, he'd somehow become the, no, **his** Führer's right hand man.

"From now on," the seated man added, "Since you are now working beside me, don't feel necessary to constantly call me 'Meine Führer' or follow through with the formalities. From this point forth, you may refer to me directly by my first name. We are now on equal terms, well, that is, as far as I see it, though it'd be somewhat odd to have two Führer's. What I'm trying to say is that you don't need to feel necessary to refrain from acting as your normal self. That is, we're on a friend-to-friend basis, if you know what I mean."

There was a long moment of silence, in which Hughes gradually collected his bearings and then smiled. It was a carefree smile. A large grin. Warm and reassuring.

"Alright, then. If that is your wish, Meine Führer, Roy Mustang."

"Roy. Just Roy is fine."

Hughes chuckled. "Alright, Roy," he replied, testing out the use of the name. "I hope that we will work well together, and bring a bright future for this country."

Roy smiled broadly. "And I as well."

- -- - -- -

_The star of the name, Mars._

_Is that not to say the_

_God of the Wars?_

_I'm Mars, praying for peace._

_However, as for the world today,_

_It's turning, continuously turning._

_Even now, you can't stop fighting._

- -- - -- -


End file.
